


Floating on the Veil Between Dream and Reality

by TheMistyDarkPrincess



Series: Cardverse Works [1]
Category: Cardverse Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America is actually responsible, Cardverse, Dimension Travel, Hetalia World, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not that the others see that, Thanks for the over 1000 hits!, World meeting gone wrong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2018-04-22 11:11:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4833248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMistyDarkPrincess/pseuds/TheMistyDarkPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America is not who the other nations picture him as, but he leaves them to their thoughts about him, no matter how much they hurt.  But when he starts getting dreams telling him that he needs to wake up and meets and alternate version of both Prussia and Sealand, his world begins to spiral.  Is him being America actually the reality, or is he actually the sleeping "Alfred" being called for in his dreams?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Normal Day

**Author's Note:**

> I know... I have so many other fanfics in other fandoms I should be working on, but this fic hit me one day and would not let me shake it... So here it is. Please enjoy.

Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick…. What the hell was making that God awful ticking sound? Seriously, he had just gotten to sleep an hour ago. At least, he thought that it was an hour ago. Looking around, his eyes were only met with darkness so thick he couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face.

“Alfred… Wake… Come… Us… Please… Come….”

A voice now coincided with the ticking.

“Who are you?”

America shouted into the darkness. He hated being unsure about what was going on.

“What… Mean… Come… To… Remember….”

A different voice was what answered this time, but the ticking had stopped at least.

“Remember? Remember what?”

America was starting to feel uneasy about the voices calling out to him in the dark.

“Mon… Please… Back… Miss….”

Another voice answered. This one actually seemed to be familiar.

“We… You… The… Miss… My….”

Another voice….

“You should go back to them.”

America turned quickly as that last statement entered the air to stare straight at a person who looked exactly like Prussia. The only thing about this Prussia look-alike was that he seemed to have demonic looking attributes, and his smile spoke of a type of mischief only seem in those who were not stable. Sure, Prussia was known to be a trickster, but this was a look that reminded him of a cat or a serial murderer playing with its victim before ending their life.

“What do you mean by that? And who are you? You’re not the Prussia, I know.”

The man started to laugh, his laugh resembling a twisted version of Prussia’s.

“Oh Gott… This is beautiful! You really don’t remember do you?! This is going to make everything more interesting, isn’t it Peter?”

America jolted and swerved his head to look over his shoulder as another voice added its laughter to the Prussia look-alike’s. There, stood a boy who looked like Sealand, the only thing is that, he too had a demonic look to him and wore the same look of mischief as the look-alike.

“I have to agree, Gilbert. It serves that git of an older brother, and Queen, to this brat right. Though I have to wonder… Why are you trying to get him to return now? That, I don’t understand.”

America kept whipping his attention back and forth between the two figures really starting to not like where this conversation was going.

“Because, my friend, it will send the world he is in right now into chaos. When I threw his consciousness from our world into this one almost two-hundred and thirty-five years ago, I didn’t think it would stick. Wouldn’t you know it, though, it did and now he has bonds that I… No… We can screw with even more than at home.”

“Oh I see! That’s an awesome plan!”

America was about to disagree and demand to know what was going on again when the familiar sound of his alarm began to blast apart the darkness.

“Well, looks like that’s our cue to go Peter. We’ll be seeing you later, young King.”

“Yeah, later… Alfred.”

The two figures then disappeared, leaving behind what looked like two playing cards in their wake. Picking them up, America was able to see they were both Jokers, and the photos on both matched the two who had been speaking just moments ago. By now the call of his alarm was growing louder and a light was now breeching the darkness that surrounded him. The light grew and grew until… He woke up.

* * *

Bolting up from his bed, America shot a look around his room to make sure he was alone before letting out a sigh of relief. Shaking his head, he moved towards his closet and began to dig through the contents looking for the only clean suit he had at the moment so he could make the world meeting. In the back of his mind he snickered.

“Man, if only the others knew that I wake up early on meeting days and arrive late on purpose just to see their faces.”

He snickered to himself as he finally found the suit he was looking for. Gently he turned and placed it on his bed, making sure to put his bomber jacket next to it. Hey, who said he would go completely formal? America then moved towards his bathroom, stripping out of his night clothes as he did so. Once inside the room he started the water in his shower to heat it up and then moved over to the toilet. Once he was done there, he moved to the sink and washed his hands, afterwards pulling out his toothbrush and toothpaste which he used in a proficient manner before rinsing his mouth and stepping into the shower, after having removed Texas from his face and placing them on the sink counter.

This was routine for him by now so he finished the shower in under twenty minutes then turned off the water and stepped out, wrapping his towel around his waist after he had finished toweling off his hair. After he was done with that he grabbed Texas off the sink counter and put them as he started his trek back into his bedroom only to stop when something in the mirror caught his attention.

Turning to fully face the mirror, America felt his eyes widen as, instead of his normal reflection, he was met with the scene of a man, who looked exactly like him, lying on a bed with four other figures surrounding him. The scene in the mirror then zoomed in on the man who looked like him where the rest of the people there vanished into a black background. The man’s eyes were closed but, as America began to move towards the door, they began to open showing the same blue eyes that the retreating country has.

“They have been waiting for you for so long… Why won’t you let yourself return? Did you forget that you existed as me before?”

The figure asked causing America to full out run to the door, his back turning on the mirror.

“You’re not real… This is just my sleep depravedness catching up with me! I just need a cup of coffee, and you’ll be gone. You’re a daydream, continuing the dream I was just having!”

America felt himself saying, though he knew it was ridiculous for him to actually respond to whatever was behind him. From behind him, there was no other sound so it was obvious whatever he had been seeing was over. Just to be sure, however, America braved a glance over his shoulder at the mirror once more. It was empty, just like he expected it to be. Giving a sigh, he turned the handle that was in his grasp and left the bathroom, calmer than he had been trying to leave it before.

“Man… Maybe having that soda before bed was a bad idea after all.”

He muttered to himself before shaking his head.

“Naw, it couldn’t have been the sodas fault. It must be the fact that I went to bed at eleven last night instead of nine like I usually do on the nights before World meetings.”

He reasoned to himself nodding this time as though he had found the answer to his problem. With that out of the way, he moved over to the suit he had laid out carefully and began the process of getting dressed, making sure to make every part of the suit look pristine on his form as he did so. Once he was done with the suit, he lovingly picked up his bomber jacket and slipped it on, adjusting it with a sense of reverence. Done getting dressed, Alfred then looked to the clock on the wall and gave a maniacal grin at a newly set record.

“Ha! And England calls me sloppy and disorganized.”

He chirped to himself giddily before he exited his room and made for the stairs that led downstairs. Taking the stairs two at a time he reached the first floor easily, quickly starting the beeline to the kitchen for breakfast as soon as both feet touched ground. What he didn’t notice, was that when he passed the decorative mirror he had on the wall just to the right of the kitchen’s entryway, a flash of fancy, blue and purple clothing covering his form briefly as though it had always been there.

Opening one of the cabinets upon entering the kitchen, America rummaged around to find the coffee beans he felt like using that morning and set about making his morning cup of coffee first. After grinding the beans and setting the coffee to brew in the coffeemaker, America then went to the refrigerator and opened it, pulling out the jar of strawberry jam that was located inside, as well as the bread he was going to use for the toast to put it on.

“Just another thing I would love to see the others flip out about.”

America snickered to himself at the comment he always seemed to find himself saying every time he pulled out these items. McDonalds was only good for lunch, and maybe dinner if he was on a tight schedule, but in the morning it was always toast and jam, or maybe a bowl of oatmeal depending on his mood. What he wouldn’t give to see the faces of the other nations if they really did find out about everything he did opposite of their beliefs.

* * *

After finishing breakfast, America put his dishes in the sink and left a note and money by the sink for his housekeeper/sitter Rebecca, the only person he could trust to take care of his house and his pets while he was gone for meetings or business deals and discussions. After he was sure everything else was good to go he walked to the door of his house and grabbed his keys and briefcase from the table a little ways away from it as he passed by it. Reaching the door, he undid the deadbolt and other locks before opening it and stepping out, immediately turning to lock up behind him.

As soon as he was sure the door was locked all the way he made his way to his car and unlocked it, opening the door after and entering it. Once he was buckled in, he closed the door and put the key in the ignition. Now he just had to drive around for another couple of minutes before he could make his dramatically late entrance. No sense in giving some of the older nations heart attacks for being on time. Especially when they have solidified their ideas of him in their minds. ‘One day I’ll shock’em, just not now”, had become a common thought in America’s mind since a couple of years ago, but he had yet to work up the nerve to actually follow through.

What America didn’t notice, as he was distracted by his thoughts, was the flash of a blue hat appearing on his head before it disappeared in his rearview mirror. He also missed the red eyes that flashed from his back seat, and the laugh of the Prussia impostor from his dream sounding briefly in the car, just below the sound of the radio.


	2. The Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is short. Sorry this is late.

It didn’t take America long to reach the UN building, though he was sure that the others were already inside and waiting to give him hell for making it at least five minutes after them.  The meeting wasn’t going to start for another hour or so anyways, so why they bothered to do something like that was beyond him, but it was something he knew was going to happen.

Shrugging to himself, America drove around casually looking for a parking spot, even though he saw a few places open close to the building, and the entrance.  He knew better than to try and go for those spots though, it was sure to be chaos as soon as the meeting was over and everyone began to head for their cars.  He did not want to get caught up in the mess that would be the jammed doorways full of eager to leave countries.  He was also sure he saw Russia’s favorite rental car (seriously, the dude scared the guy at the rental service bad enough that it was reserved for him every time he was in New York) parked close to the front and he didn’t want to deal with that if he didn’t have to after a meeting, thank you very kindly.

After finding the perfect spot, almost as far away from the front of the parking lot as possibly, he parked his car, and then took his time getting out.  He went through his briefcase, which was now in the driver’s seat he had occupied and made sure he had all his notes, and that they were in order.  He then went through and made sure he had brought his doodle covered papers.  He used these to cover his notes so that no one saw what was really written on them. Though it was certain that he was never going to be able to make the comments he wanted to, and that the group would decide that they wanted to be stupid and waste the meeting away talking about useless things, and he didn’t want to bother with typing up his suggestions and sending them to their respective countries because they would be ignored anyways.

After he was sure that everything was in order, it was then that America straightened himself out and closed the door of his car, locking it with the ease of a button push, and then made his merry, or not so merry, way to the building where he was sure he was going to be facing another unproductive, and full of acting, day.

* * *

Boy did he hate being right.  When America opened the doors to the meeting room, he was met with the sight of  pure, uncontained chaos.   England and France were in a fist fight dragging innocent bystanders into the cloud of disaster.  China was complaining to the other Asian countries about how immature the western countries were and in some cases he was boring them with his tales of how different it was when he didn’t have to deal with them as often.  And Russia…  Well he was just being Russia and that had everyone else not involved in the mess to feel uncomfortable.

Sighing, America realized that he had apparently opened the door too quietly because the others didn’t even bother to pause in their rabble rousing in order to shout at him, or make some sort of comment about his country and it’s people.  Closing the door, he waited until he heard the noise inside pick up before he braced the shoulder that did not have his briefcase against the door.  With a huge inhale, he pulled back, and slammed his shoulder into the door causing it to bang open, and caused all the mayhem inside to come to a halt.

“No worries people the Hero is here!”

He chirped, ignoring the glares from some of the more serious countries.

“About time you Bloody Git.”

England snapped, to which America gave a loud boisterous laugh.

“Aw, whatever you say Iggs.  You know you love me.”

He stated walking by the stammering, raging, British man, while France was straightening his clothes having finally been brought out of his fight with the other.  America then made his way to the front and stood at the front of the table. 

“Welcome everyone to my awesome home!  We have a lot to talk about today so let’s get this show on the road!”

He shouted, as was custom to how he started the meetings held in his home, before stepping to the side to let Germany take over, which other did with his normal serious expression on his face.  After the man had finished calling out the rules and regulations for speaking, as well as the roll call, the German began to call those who were going to speak to to the front one by one.

* * *

It was halfway through the first half of the meeting when America caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye.  France had a mirror out and was currently grooming himself while Japan spoke about something that was going on in his country but it was what in the mirror that had America’s blood running cold.  Since France was trying to keep the mirror hidden, he had it faced in such a way that it was facing Alfred’s way just enough for him to see something else in it other than the others reflection.

There, with a dark grin, was the not-Prussia from his dream. He was waving innocently at America while his gaze was facing the front of the table. It was clear he was mocking the other, and knew he had been seen. But it was who his gaze was on that had America ready to jump from his seat to take France’s mirror and smash it. The doppelgänger was staring straight at Prussia, who was sitting next to Germany pouting since his brother had finally snapped at him for the inappropriate comments he had been making.

America only lost his concentration once on the other by blinking, but the not-Prussia had taken that moment to disappear from sight. This brought America’s gaze towards his Prussia, who was no slumped over in an odd manner that actually had Germany worried. The meeting had now come to a halt due to the suddenness of Prussia’s apparent fainting spell. As Germany and Italy tried to get Prussia to wake up, America could only think one thought, which was an extremely audible: “oh shit…!” Okay… So it wasn't just thought.

His exclamation had many a country’s attention brought to him, some in surprise others in suspicion.

“America, do you know what happened to Prussia?”

England asked from his seat, unsure if he should get up and check on the still slumped over former country.

“I… Look, if I tried to explain, you would think I was crazy! I thought it was nothing but a-...”

America started only to stop as a hand wrapped around his mouth from behind. The rest of the room was now in shock at how fast Prussia had appeared behind the other, and just how fast he seemed to be fine. Back where he had been sitting both Italy and Germany were staring in disbelief from Prussia to the chair he had been occupying.

“Oh Alfie… Don't try to ruin my fun.”

Prussia, in the voice of not-Prussia, whispered into his ear before he released the others mouth.

“I'm using this body until I can convince you to go back to card. After all, I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted chaos. Play along or I get to play with the people here. I don't think they know how to fight off Jokesters.”

He continued, noticing how tense the other was, and how set in a grimace his face was.

“Now, laugh. Make it seem like it was a joke the two of you were going to play. I'm going to be laughing as well, so don't screw this up.”

With that last command, the other moved back and began laughing.

“Kesesesesese! Did you get a good glimpse at their faces? Was it as good as we had thought? We're they really worried about me?”

He asked giving America who had turned towards him in his seat a meaningful look. America made the muscles in his mouth begin some sort of cooperation.

“Hahahaha! Yeah you should have seen it!”

He forced out, plastering on the fakest of smiles in response. This has the room immediately bursting into mayhem, which Germany called for a break over.  While this was going on, America, in one part of his mind, was wondering about what the heck Jokesters were in the context the other was talking about, and the other was trying to figure out what to do to get out of this situation.  The not-Prussia seemed like he was going to be around for a while.  Moving to stand, he found himself grabbing the table to stable himself as he suddenly felt dizziness make the world around him start swimming.  However, his hand somehow didn’t stay on the table, and he found the floor rushing up to embrace him.


	3. Headache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably short, and I apologize for that.

America felt sick as the meeting continued on after the lunch break.  He was being glared at by many countries due to the incident with Prussia…  Or the not Prussia…  Who was sitting across from him now giving him a look that was telling him not to speak a word about him.  Normally America would ignore a look like that, but it scared him.  It was harsher than any look Russia could even hope to give him, and the other had given him many over the course of his life.  Staring down at his fake doodle page, America found himself wanting to squirm in his seat due to the intensity of the look.  The glares from around the table meant nothing to him and neither did the speaker, Japan at the moment, only the look.

“America, pay attention!”

England snapped quietly from beside him, Finally dragging America to look up from the doodle page.

“Sorry Iggy…”

He said, gaining a shocked look, as he turned his eyes up front to the presentation that was being projected behind Japan.  He was currently talking about his advancement in technology.  America calculated from the briefing he had been sent that the other was three-fourths of the way done with his presentation, and this made him feel bad about not paying attention sooner, as he had been interested in what the other had to say about the topic before the current.

“Why am I not surprised that America wasn't paying attention?”

America heard from the side, the voice belonging to China.

“Because he is ignorant, Da?”

Russia’s voice responded back.

“He still thinks he’s such a big shot.  All he really is is a problem to the world.”

Cuba chimed in.  America gritted his teeth to bite back the comment he was sure would make itself known if he didn’t, instead he forced his lips to upturn into a smile, his eyes on Japan.

As he stared at his friend, however, his vision flashed for a moment, and the other was wearing a red, heart decorated, kimono holding a bouquet of red flowers.  America blinked at least a dozen times before Japan was back in his white pristine uniform.  It was then that his head began to pound, and a ringing echoed in his ears accompanying words, and he found himself lowering his head with his eyes closed.

* * *

 

“Alfred-san, wake up.  You are worrying your brother and your fathers.  You are worrying your alliance.  It has been too long for you to sleep.”

Japan seemed to be the one talking, but it was not the Japan, America knew.

“Kiku…  It’s been 200 years.  No matter how many times we tell him to wake…  It seems like he won’t.”

Now Germany’s voice was speaking, but again, it was not the Germany, America could recognize.

“I refuse to give up Ludwig.  This is your brother’s fault!  If we had kept Gilbert in prison like we had promised there would not be this problem now!”

The other Japan snapped.

“Please you two, don’t fight!  I hate it when you fight!”

Now it was Italy’s voice joined the other two.

“America?”

America’s ears began to stop ringing, and his brother’s, Canada’s, soft, concerned voice reached his brain.  His head, however, was still pounding.  Looking up, and to his left with his eyes narrowed in pain, he was met with the violet worry of his brother’s eyes.

“I-I’m fine.”

He managed back just as softly, lifting his head up completely and opening his eyes fully, his attention going back to Japan at the front.  It was clear the other countries had not noticed was surprising, but the fact that Canada had was not surprising, as the other loved to observe…  Though that was mostly because no one listened to or saw him most of the time.  Japan was now on his final topic, and the intense look from the not Prussia had gained even more intensity.

“Hey, America, you okay?  Getting sick is not awesome.”

Not Prussia asked after a few minutes of letting the others not notice his pain.  As expected, everyone’s gaze turned to him.

“I’m fine.  What are you talking about man?”

America shot back, trying to keep himself from cringing with the pounding of his head.

“You’re paler than you normally are.”

The other responded.  Now France and England were looking at him with concern, seeming to see the same as not Prussia.

“Dude, it’s probably the light.”

America was desperate to get the others to stop staring at him.

“He’s probably faking it.”

Romano was heard muttering.

“Romano, he may not be.”

Spain responded back with slight scolding.

“Maybe he needs pasta?”

Italy was saying to Germany who was sighing and shaking his head.

“Nein.”

Now the other countries were muttering to each other.  America was not liking how this was going at all.

“Guys…  Maybe we should let Japan finish yeah?”

He said loud enough to hopefully get attention off of himself.  Though now his vision was starting to blur into shades of reds, yellows, blues, and greens.  Each person at the table wearing some shade and outfits far different than what they normally wore.  One person stood out however.  Prussia was sitting among the chaos with a smirk playing on his lips, dark colored clothing accented with the demon tail that flickered back and forth behind him like a cats and the hat that looked like horns on his head.  Everyone seemed to thinking about what America said, and most were turning their attention to the front.  America, however, was swaying in his seat, the sights in front of him causing his headache to pick up and start feeling dizzy.

“America, are you really okay?”

Canada asked now close enough to possibly be standing behind the other.

“Fine.”

America responded automatically.  Two hands landed on his shoulders to balance him in his seat.

“No, you’re not!  Let me tell Germany you need some air and we can go outside okay?”

Canada countered, this time not bothering to listen to the fight America was about to put up.  The hands then left America’s shoulders leaving him to go back to swaying in his seat.

“What did you see?”

Prussia’s voice now took the place of Canada’s.

“What do you mean?”

He asked quietly as from his peripheral he could see the white of the others hair.  The other was leaning to where he could whisper in his ear.

“You know what I mean.  Seems your soul is starting to finally miss home.  All I had to do was give you one little dream.  Makes things easier for me.”

“What…?”

America started only for the white to disappear and be replaced by the blond of his brother.

“Come on America.  I got the okay from Germany.  Let’s go get you some fresh air.”

His brother said with concern as he helped America from his chair and started guiding him to the door.  Again behind him the sound of the other countries talking could be heard.  America glanced behind him briefly and noticed eyes were once again back on him, except for Prussia who was shaking his head and grasping it like he was starting to get a headache.  The sight of the other looking around confused was the last thing America saw before the doors to the conference room closed behind him and his brother.  This led to one thought.  Where did the other Prussia go?


	4. What Happens Next

Once he and Canada were outside, America leaned against a wall in order to keep himself standing.  In front of him Canada was watching him like a hawk, violet eyes taking in every body gesture he was making consciously or unconsciously.

“America…  Are you going to be okay?  You’re really worrying me.”

The man/country asked as America took deep breaths and tried to get himself back together.

“I don’t know bro…  I just don’t know.”

America gave his brother a look he knew only the other could decipher.  The look of uncertainty that he dared not show anyone.

“What happened in there?”

Canada questioned, now moving to stand next to his brother and place his hand on his shoulder.  America shook his head, a quick and stiff movement that made his head start hurting again.

“America?”

Canada reached out to steady the other where the wall couldn’t.  America looked at his brother to be met with the scene of a dark and light blue checkered vest covering his chest instead of his normal coat.

“Shit!”

America groaned as he closed his eyes.

“America?!”

Canada sounded panicked now.

“Fine…  I’m fine.  Just…  Light headed.  Yeah.”

America responded, trying to wave off the others concerns.  Then again, he should have chosen his words better.

“Light headed?  America, when did this start?”

Canada snapped at him, his concern burning America to his core.

“Since…”

He started, trying to speak words of some sort.  But what could he say?  ‘I’ve been like this since I had this odd dream and now I’ve been dealing with someone who is not Prussia, but looks like Prussia, who claims to be from another world.  You know there’s apparently another universe and my soul is from it and I’m another person altogether there’?  That sounded like he was making up some sort of odd story.  And it started with a dream…  A dream!  It was going to make things seem like it was pointless to be like this if he said that.  He just couldn’t tell his brother that.  Couldn’t tell anyone.

“That’s right.  Poor, little Alfred doesn’t want to come across as crazy.  Sorry.  Poor, little ‘America’, what a name.”

The not-Prussia’s voice danced in his ears and into his brain.  America’s eyes snapped open again, startling Canada who moved back slightly.

“Go away.”

America whined under his breath, but it was loud enough Canada heard it.

“What?”

Canada asked, a little affronted and upset.

“Trying to tell the headache to go away.…”

America immediately responded, trying to make Canada calm down.  Canada narrowed his eyes at him for a brief moment.  In the time America was afraid the other was going to start yelling at him, or at the very least, give him that look that had him sick to his stomach most times.  Canada then sighed, and moved forward to pull his brother into a hug.

“Maybe you should go home.”

America buried his face into his brother’s shoulder at the others suggestion.

“I don’t want to hear what the others would say if I did.”

He whined slightly.  Canada sighed again.

“Since when did you care what they thought?  You usually ignore it.”

America gave a weak chuckle.

“You know that I don’t ignore it.”

His words just made his brother hold him tighter.  Then the doors shot open and the brother separated from their hug quickly.  There was a parade of escaping countries, all of them talking about something or another with another country.  Germany must have given up on getting the others to pay attention for the day. A couple of the countries looked over at the brothers and gave them a wide variety of looks.

America internally groaned at some of the looks, and made to move away from the wall.  Canada reached out to help, and then moved away a little to watch and make sure he was on his feet.

“Thanks bro.  I probably should go get my stuff now.”

America said, looking down at the empty space next to him which didn't contain his briefcase and contents.

“Yeah, that would probably be a good thing.”

Canada agreed, eyes watching America closely as he stood up straight and began to move towards the doors to fight his way upstream of the outflowing countries.

_

America gave a groan as he flopped down on his couch.  After everything that had happened that day, he just wanted to relax until he had to deal with it the next day.  When he had entered back into the conference room to get his stuff, he had to deal with the lingering countries. When he left the building again, he had to deal with lingering countries outside. All of them, both inside and out, were still pissed about the thing with Prussia.

Just as he was about to sink into his couch and let himself have a small nap before taking care of some things he had yet to finish work wise, the sound of knocking came from the front door.  The sound illicited another groan from America and he turned his head, from his position, to glare at the way to said door.  Maybe if he pretended to not be home the person would go away.  Who would be knocking on his door anyways?  The other countries rarely visited unless it was for a party or a private meeting.  His family certainly visited freely, but only after calling first.  He was pretty sure that none of those scenarios were to be occurring or were occurring at the moment.

Turning his head back to a straight position, he closed his eyes ready to doze…  Until another, much louder and demanding, knock came from the door.

“Oh come on…”

America groaned, but allowed himself to move himself into an upright position.  Letting out a mumbled mess of complaints about lack of manners, and a hissed “if this is a door-to-door, I'm going to scream”, America stood up and made his way towards the wooden guard between him and the outside world.  Reaching said guard, America glanced through the peephole he had made sure was part of the door and raised an eyebrow at the person on the other side.  What the heck was Prussia doing at his house…  Unless it was the not-Prussia.

“What’da want?”

America called through the door, trying to gauge the situation from the response he hoped to get.

“Just open the door you bloody git. We want in to talk to you.”

A voice he didn't expect to hear came instead of Prussia’s.  What was Sealand doing here?

“Peter’s right.  Open the door so we can talk.”

There was the voice he had thought he would hear first.  America bit his bottom lip and looked through the peephole again, only to see red staring right back at him.  Yelping, he jumped back.

“Dude, not cool! You know there is a horror story with some ghost chick doing the same thing!”

He shouted, only to get a harmony of laughter from outside.

“Then open the door.”

Again, America approached the door and grudgingly unlocked the locks, pulling the door open a few seconds later.  The two standing on his porch gave him a matching pair of devilish grins, and America saw flashes of black, horns, and tails.  Shaking his head to rid himself of the images, he waited until the two entered before closing the door behind them.

“What do you want?”

He asked warily, moving to put some distance between him and the two standing in the middle of his entryway.

“To talk.”

Not-Sealand responded, an “are you deaf, or did we not say” look on his face.

“Why?”

America stressed, watching as the two moved out of the entryway then towards the living room.  Not wanting to let the two out of his sight, he followed them and watched them both take a seat on his couch, Not-Prussia moving to lounge as much as he could with Not-Sealand on the couch.

“Because we know your soul is becoming restless. We figured we help stir it up more~.  After all, chaos is the Joker way.”

Not-Sealand gushed, as though he was talking about something cute.  It was twisted, and made America squirm where he stood.

“And you're starting to remember the others of your world. You're seeing the suites aren't you?”

Not-Prussia cooed, like he was talking to a child.

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

America snapped then, fighting a newly starting headache in order to try and get the two to give him some actual answers.

“Alfred, Alfred, Alfred…  Mighty King of Spades.  How the mighty fall when they haven't been in power for a long time like you.  Do you miss it? Your magic clocks, your power?”

Not-Prussia taunted, while Not-Sealand pulled two somethings out of Sealand’s pocket.  The two objects were a mirror and the other was a pocket watch.

“Why don'tcha take a look at who ya really are.”

He chirped giddily, then the mirror was shoved in America’s face.  America could only briefly wonder how the other had moved so fast before his eyes were met with blue.  Then the pocket watch was next to his face, and the blue in the mirror now had more definition and a face to go with it.  It was his face in the mirror, but not _his_ face.  The face in the mirror looked even younger in its sleep like state and there was tear stains on the cheeks, but not from the closed eyes.  It was like someone was crying over his face, the other person’s tears leaving stains.

_“Alfred… Please…  I miss you so much.  I don't know what to do.  Dad and Papa, they're so dead inside.  Kiku is so weak of heart now that his summons fail more times than not.  Ludwig is scared for his husband, Alfred.  You're best friend is suffering, and his husband can't do anything to help him except take the blame for letting Gilbert free.”_

A voice from off the mirrors surface could be heard saying, and then the mirror and the watch were gone.

“Whoopsie.  Didn't know someone was there.”

Not-Sealand said, a giggle in his voice.  Not-Prussia outright laughed.  America, on the other hand, found his headache getting so bad his eyes closed on their own and his body fell to the floor in a faint.


	5. Waking Up in the Unknown

It was surprising how noisy being unconscious could be. That is the first thought in America’s mind. The second thought was about whether or not he was late to the world meeting, because he did not want to deal with the others if he was. The third was the thing that snapped his focus, and it was just how soft the thing he was lying on was. He knew for a fact he did not have a couch, or bed for that matter, as soft as the thing he was on.

“I swear to you, his hand moved!”

A voice shouted from somewhere in the darkness America found himself submerged in. Did this person not realize he wanted to be unconscious in peace? Let him enjoy this delusion of the soft whatever, and his dreaming, because that has to be what this is, before he wakes up and has to book it to the UN building.

“Matthieu, you shouldn't be too excited. You could have hallucinated it. You haven't been getting-....”

Another voice cut off the first, causing a growl to come from the other.

“Papa, don't tell me that it was a hallucination! I saw his hand move, for the first time in over two hundred years, he moved!”

America felt his brows furrow in his confusion, though his eyes remained closed.

“Oh my…!”

There was a third voice now, and then there was the sensation of someone grabbing his hand in a tight hold.

“Alfred, lad, can you hear me? Come on little one, open your eyes!”

America's brows furrowed even further. Why was this person calling him Alfred? And why did he seriously sound like England?

“Come on Al! You can do it, open your eyes!”

This time the first voice, and boy did it sound like Canada, said close to his head.

“Mon petit, can you hear us? You're surrounded by family. We know you can do it.”

The second voice, that was so clearly France, called to him in a soft, caring voice he had not heard in years. Now he knew this had to be a dream. To prove it to himself, America began to fight the darkness that was surrounding him. Said darkness didn't seem to want to fight fair.

“That's it Lad. Follow my voice. Come on.”

The voice that sounded like England cut through the darkness. America couldn't help but wonder why it sounded so hopeful. Seriously, he had just fainted, from what he could remember about what happened with Not-Prussia and Not-Sealand, unless he has been unconscious for the whole rest of the world meeting… Yeah that had to be it. England would be concerned until he woke up, then he would get the lecture of his over two hundred and so many years of beautiful freedom. Now the darkness was being more lenient, a sign he was fighting the winning battle of wills to open his eyes. Or maybe it was the fact that he just wanted the lecture over with so he could go back to his normal life where England was raging insults at him instead of sounding like a kicked puppy.

“That’s it Lad! Matthew, go get Yao!”

“No, I'll do it. You two stay here.”

“You sure Francis?”

“Yes. Stay here with him.”

There was the sound of footsteps then, and America was even more convinced that he needed to wake up and get this delusion to stop. Finally, after what felt like forever, his eyes opened into just the tiniest of slits, only to crash back shut due to the assault the light he was met with caused to his sense of sight. Then he felt a weight thud onto his chest, making him huff out a blast of air.

“Oh thank the Suites!”

The voice of Canada cried, and America gave a groan of pain in response.

“Heavy….”

He managed out, his consciousness taking note of the fact his voice sounded younger, and a lot smoother, than it normally was. There was a gasp, and the weight disappeared.

“Oh…! Sorry Al!”

It was once again Canada’s voice. America tried again with an attempt to open his eyes, this time making them open inch by inch.

“Is he really awake?”

A new voice suddenly shouted into the room, the sound of fast pounding feet accompanying it along with a much softer pair. It was just as America finished his eyes. With still light-pained eyes, America gave another groan, and began to blink away the feeling of fire (because seriously the light hurt) that was blazing them.

“I feel like I was hit by a truck… Good lord, my eyes…!”

America tried to move his arms to get his hands close to his eyes. Maybe if he rubbed them, they would stop burning. However, action was stopped by two pairs of hands holding his own.

“Truck? Oh whatever! Thank the Suites. King Alfred, you're finally awake.”

The new voice from before said in a gasp. That's when it clicked in America’s mind who it sounded like. The new voice sounded like China. But it was obviously not China because he was sure the other would not give a damn if he fainted (unless he wanted to use it against him at a world meeting. He would jump on it then, but it wouldn't be in a worried way). Tilting his head to the side, he narrowed his eyes in a way that seemed to alleviate some of the burning, then froze. He was surprised to see the other wearing a royal blue outfit that looked kind of like a….

“China…? What the hell are you wearing? Is that a dress…?”

He asked, pain forgotten as it lessened due to his eyes being the way he had them, before trailing his eyes over the others in the room. He specifically focused on the people holding his hands first.

“England…? Canada…?”

He questioned looking at the two others dressed in blue, England in the same royal blue as China, Canada in a lighter shade of navy blue. Then he shifted his eyes over and was met with the one difference in the room. France was standing a little closer to him than China, but he was in a bright, popping yellow outfit that was a little hard on America's newly opened eyes.

“France… What’s with the eye blazer…?”

The room went into silence, the other occupants sharing looks in between them of shock and concern.

“Alfred… Lad… What do you mean “China, England, Canada, and France”?”

England asked slowly, as though he was talking to a confused child. This caused America to frown.

“I mean you guys. That's who you are. Stop trying to play this prank on me.”

He responded, his voice firm. The others in the room again shared a look.

“Mon petit… Those aren't our names. And this is not a prank.”

France replied softly, China nodding firmly with the statement (obviously brushing off the dress comment for some reason).

“Alfred… Oh how do I break this to you…? Who you say we are, and the fact that you don't remember our real names stem from the same thing possibly. Alfred… You've been asleep for over two hundred years. Whatever you think those names are from must have been a dream.”

Canada started, pausing to let the words sink in before he continued.

“The man you call England? That's our Father, and your Queen, Arthur. The one you called France? That's our Papa, and the King of Diamond, Francis. The one you called China? His name is Yao, and he is your Jack, Alfred. And I'm your brother Matthew, I'm you Ace.”

America blinked a couple of times.

“I'm sorry, what? Queen? King? Jack? Ace? Are you talking about, like a playing cards suite? And you said that England is _not_ England, but Arthur, and my Queen? I thought Queens were, ya know, gals. Not that I have anything against breaking gender norms, unlike what the other countries might think about me, good on that! But… I'm confused. If Eng-... Arthur is my Queen, and our Father, wouldn't that make me…?”

He paused in his confusion trying to work out the two things in his head, and drawing some conclusions he couldn't be sure about. Matthew nodded slowly, and in a tone that sounded like he was trying hard to be gentle in breaching the subject he said:

“Card suites… Countries? Must be part of your dreaming… Anyways… Alfred, if Arthur is your Queen, even though he is our Father, no this is not incestuous since he rules with you platoniclly and has a treaty marriage with Papa, and he's male, that makes you the King. The King of Spades in fact.”

America stared hard at Can-... Matthew for a few moments, then promptly let his head hit the pillow that seemed to be behind it again in a nice, comfortable, faint.


	6. When I Wake, When I Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow.... I never expected this fic. to have so many hits, kudos, comments, bookmarks, subscriptions.... Guys this makes me so happy you have no idea!
> 
> Here is the next chapter. I hope this continues to be up to your expectations!

Again, being unconscious was noisy. And again, America found himself wishing for quiet. There was something about the hurried, hushed whispers though that had his mind perking up to take interest. He was sure he hadn't been out for too long, as it sounded like the people above him were discussing something about how they shouldn't have taxed his confused mind. Confused mind his left kidney, he was sure it was the others who were confused and he was very much in the right state of mind.

“Trucks… Of all things, he said trucks! What the bloody hell is a truck? We use carriages.”

The familiar voice of the England, America had woken up to.

“You're still on that? How about how he was calling us other names? Or about his confusion of the royalty system? Or…”

Canada’s voice chimed in. Then a third cut in.

“And you're still on that Mattieu…. We need to stop asking the small questions and ask the big one that you two have been dancing around.”

It was clearly France, and it was strange to hear the seriousness in his voice.

“King Francis is right. We need to be asking what Gilbert did to Young King Alfred.”

China added, and America internally groaned. There was that name again. Alfred.

_That's who we are._

America actually jolted at the voice suddenly intruding on his thoughts and this caused the others in the room to go quiet.

“Mon Petit?”

France-

_His name is Francis! This is Papa Francis. The flirtatious King of Diamonds. His kingdoms holding, sweet but strong’s Queen’s name is Lili, and her brothers name is Vash._

\-  Said calm and caring.  The other voice cut off America’s thoughts and caused America to open his eyes.

“Oh thank goodness Lad. Are you alright? We must have overdone it….”

America looked over at England-

_Arthur. This is my Father, Arthur. Our silly, snobby, snappy, fantastically talented Queen._

\-  And gave him a small, taxed smile.

“I'm… Alright.”

He said slowly, looking between everyone in the room.

“Gilbert did a number on you, Al… So you need to tell us when it starts to be pushing.”

Canada-

_Matthew, my twin, older brother by 3 days. Bless our mom’s beautiful soul. We were orphaned because I decided to tax our mother to the point of exhaustion. Papa and Father took us in. Papa married Father because the King of Spade had not been found yet. It's a political, but loving marriage. Then I was found to be the King. That was the luck of the Spade Kingdom._

\-  Calmly said, a small, sad smile on his face. It was then that America felt a hand touch his forehead and he glanced to the side to see China-

_Yao. He's the best medic and Jack a person could ask for. Though he can be a bit tiring when he gets into a nagging mood, I would never trade him for the world. He was the best sword teacher I could have asked for… Though I still prefer my guns._

\-  Who looked a bit perplexed.

“He doesn't have a fever….”

The man started but he paused and looked over at the others in the room, ignoring the confused look he was getting from the one he was talking about.

“Something about him does feel off though. Like something is curled around the edges of his Qi.”

America knew that word (and a lot more Chinese because he was the mixing pot of cultures thank you very much!) and he knew the implications of what that could mean… Though there were many of them.

“Yao… What do you mean?”

It was Arthur who asked this in an uncertain voice. Yao hummed out a note of thought and spared a quick glance towards America.

“I mean… There seems to be another… Qi… Surrounding his. Like there are two persons in his body.  Alfred, and this other being.  This is so odd though. I get the feeling the new one is only around as old as Alfred has been in his coma.”

This gained America glances from everyone now.

“Okay… That's it. Enough of this. Stop it with this prank! Stop staring at me like I'm an alien! Stop pretending to be all buddy, buddy with me. Just stop. Jeez, who put you up to this? Russia? Cuba? Spain? Prussia? Denmark? Wouldn't be surprised if it was the last two, they can be jerks sometimes, and they like to punk me as much as I like to punk them. The first two, I can't believe you would listen too, but there is a first time for everything! And Spain has been known to pull things from time to time (see April Fools Day), so I wouldn't put it past him to have a whole set put up with blackmail!”

America finally snapped, only briefly retracting Prussia in his mind (because he knew for a fact something was not right with the other at the moment and he was definitely different than the norm), and ignoring the hiss of _you idiot_ that seemed to ring in his mind in the voice that was telling him things before.  The others pulled away as though they had been burned.

“Alfred…”

This time Matthew started to speak but America gave him a look that stopped him.

“Is this because of the thing with Prussia at the meeting? I'm sorry okay! I didn't even know he was going to pull that! And he's been acting really weird, him and Sealand.  They came to my house and then showed me a clock and a mirror.  Next thing I know I’m waking up in this weird situation.”

He continued, and then he noticed how pale the rest went.

“What?”

He asked looking them over carefully.

“Did Gilbert really…?”

Francis asked turning his attention to Arthur.  Arthur’s face paled further.

“Oh Suits…  It has been missing since…  But how would he have…?”

Matthew’s mouth dropped open, a hand rushing up to grab tightly at the area above his heart.  Yao made a gulping noise and nodded.

“He could have…  Used the King’s Clock and one of the Parallel Mirrors of legend to….”

America’s eyes widened, the voice inside screaming, his head beginning to pound at the sound of the mentioned objects.

“Is that…  What happened…?  But that….”

He suddenly felt himself feeling sick, like his insides were being stirred.

“Oh…  Su… It hurts!  Who am…  I’m Am…  I’m Al…  I’m…  Oh Go…”

His body jolted into a curled form.

“!”

Someone was saying something, but America…  Alfred…  didn’t hear them.  Internally there was a raging identity battle.

* * *

“America…  For God’s sake, America wake up!”

Eyes snapped open, then shut just as quickly.

“Oh, you’re finally awake.  Why are you sleeping on the floor America?”

Eyes opened again, then blinked.

“America…  Are you alright lad?”

More blinking.

“Who’s America?  Why are you calling me that Arthur?”


	7. To Wake in Confusion and Uncertainty

England was sure he was hearing things. There was no way that America called him by a different name.

  
“Lad… Are you alright?”

  
He asked instead of pointing out the mistake. America stared at him from his place on the floor with a confused and concerned look.

  
“I'm fine. Why am I on the floor?”

  
He asked, making to sit up. England have him an exasperated look.

  
“That's what I would like to know America. You were late to the World meeting today and that annoyed everyone. We started without you and thought you would show up after lunch. Then you missed the world meeting altogether. I volunteered to check on you and found you just lying here with your door unlocked. I checked, you were robbed, but you were just not waking up when I called and shook you.”

  
The man explained waiting for the other to catch up and then do something very America like. That didn't happen. Instead the other stared at him harder, as though there was another head upon his shoulders.

  
“Seriously Arthur… Why are you calling me America? And for that matter… Where are we?”

  
England felt his concern for the other grow immensely more pronounced.

  
“America… Did you hit your head? Did you fall? You're in your house. And my name is not Arthur.”

  
He explained, slowly, as though talking to a child. America gave a deep frown and glanced around him.

  
“This is not my home. And I am certain I didn't hit my head.”

  
He said stiffly, moving to push himself into a sitting position finally. He seemed to fumble in the process, however, as his arms started to shake like a baby deer's legs would upon its first attempt to stand.

  
“Wait… Suits… I'm sorry Arthur. I guess I'm just… I had this weird dream.”

  
England helped him up into a sitting position.

  
“Suits…? America, what…? You had a weird dream?”

  
He floundered, trying to piece together everything America had just said. America stared at him slightly, like he too was trying to piece things together.

  
“Yes. And this is a little close to it. Arthur… Father… What is going on here?”

  
England’s eyes grew wide and he took a couple steps back. America had not called him “father” in a long time. Something was so off about this, that the older country could not fully grasp it. America was staring at him with worry.

  
“I'm… Fine….”

  
England said, not confidently, in response.

  
“Maybe you should go to bed lad. You must have worn yourself out. Why else would you be on the floor?”

  
America shook his head forcefully and used his will power to stand. He then grabbed England by the arms gently and stared at him worried.

  
“That won't help me… Father, seriously, where are we?”

  
His voice was uncertain, a little bit more jittery than it should have been. He truly didn't know where he was. He truly thought England was still his father.

  
“Poppet, you're in your home.”

  
England said calmly, a hand going to pat the other gently on one of his shoulders.

  
“Why don't we go sit down on the couch?”

* * *

He had finally gotten the other to calm down, gotten him to close his eyes and take a small nap, when England reached carefully into his pants pocket to grab his cellphone. His hands moved unconsciously through the familiar procedure of opening it, pulling up his contacts, and pressing the call button once he had found the person he wanted. The phone rang and rang, then there was the click of someone answering.

  
“Oui? The wonderful France speaking.”

  
The flowery voice of France, a wine happy France, answered. England bit back a groan. Maybe he shouldn't have brought up the Hundred Years War at the meeting as a jibe. Especially with Joan of Arc being such a… Forbidden topic around the man.

  
“France.”

  
England said as a way of greeting. The tone of the call changed.

  
“Angleterre. Called to make things worse?”

  
The tone was dull, and immediately sober. England flinched at the accusation.

  
“I… No. I need help… America is-, oh how do I describe this? America called me Father, France. He didn't recognize his home.”

  
There was silence on the other end of the phone, then a sigh.

  
“I'll be right there, and I'll have Canada with me.”

  
The French man said, hanging up. England was glad the other was willing to come over and bring America’s brother with him. Looking down at the man, who had his head laying innocently on one of his knees, he bit his lip wondering what could have caused his oddity.

* * *

What England could not have known was America was having a dream… But he was America in it. What England couldn't have known was that America was Alfred. The young man looked around the dream with narrowed, confused eyes.

  
“What in the name of the Suits…?”

  
Alfred murmured, his eyes following the movements of those around him. He watched as Yao moved over to… Ivan(?!) and whisper, side-eyeing him as he did so. He watched as Francis (his Papa!) yell at Arthur and… Punch him?! He watched as Kiku sunk, somewhat insecurely, into his seat as he talked to Vash. And his brother? He was a wisp in the corner, ignored.

  
“I don't… What?”

  
Alfred couldn't find the words to express how he felt about this. This had to be a nightmare. Yao would never gossip about him. Yao was his teacher, his listening ear when he needed ideas or help with ideas. Yao was his Jack! Ivan and he may not have a… Stable relationship, but when it came to their treaty, they fought tooth and nail to keep it just that, stable. The other King was respectable, not the sort to gossip. And his Papa and Father never fought like this, never got physical. They talked everything out, took days separate to calm down and think reasonably. They loved each other. Kiku was his best friend, confident and had a grace that he was jealous of many a time. He was a talented summoner, one that never cowered when dealing with the slightly volatile Diamond Jack. His friend was the Queen of Hearts. And his brother, his calm and confident brother, wouldn't be someone to let himself disappear into a corner.

  
“This can't be real.”

  
Alfred’s mind refused to comprehend what he was seeing.

  
_This is real. They're always like this. Show your smart, they're scared… Pretend you're dumb, the world comes down on you. Hide who you are, get scorned. Show it, and you're a threat._

  
A voice muttered solemnly in the back of the dream. Alfred turned around to see… Himself, but different. His other self was looking at the scene with a look of resign.

  
_Can't win. Can't lose. Can't take the middle, upper, or lower ground. Can't breath without being judged._

  
His other self shrugged and stared at him.

  
_And… We're the same person dealing with two different situations. I'd say ya got the good end of the stick._

  
The last statement was a tad bitter. Alfred frowned. Then the other him shook his head.

  
_They care about you so much. It hurts…. I didn't need to know that my life sucked. I already knew. I only think it's fair you get to see what I go through. What Iggy is doing now is rare. Wait until you see him at a meeting._

  
The other him sent him a look Alfred couldn't distinguish, then everything faded. Alfred was left in a darkness he felt he would never escape.


	8. Wake Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've decided I'm going to try and post once a month from now on, when possible.
> 
> Besides that, here is the next chapter of this fic. Enjoy!

Alfred’s head was pounding.  It was throbbing in time with his heartbeat.  It was splitting his head open with its seriousness.  He didn’t want to open his eyes.

“France, I'm worried about the lad. You didn't hear him. You didn't see his confusion.”

It was the voice of Arthur, Father, who truly brought him to consciousness.

_England._

“Angleterre calm down. He will be fine. He probably needed proper rest.”

Francis’s, Papa’s, voice followed, exasperated.

_France._

“America wouldn't faint if he was fine Papa.”

Ah Matthew… Trying to be the voice of reason again.

_Canada._

“I'm with Canada on this France.  America is not fine.  I just can't figure out why though…. I've checked his stocks, I've checked his news for something that could cause him pain or illness…. Neither of those things had anything beyond the norm.”

Arthur's voice was stressed and it made Alfred want to hug the man.  Deciding he had enough of being left out of the discussion about him, he made to open his eyes cutting off everything that was happening around him.

“America, lad, can you hear me?”

Arthur - _England damnit-_ asked, and Alfred gave a groan in response as his eyes finally open.

“Eloquent.”

France comments, then lets an ‘oomph’ as Canada elbows him.

“Thank goodness America.  We were worried that you had hurt yourself worse than what we could see.”

Canada told Alfred, who narrowed his eyes against the light in the room.

“I feel fine.  I don’t know what happened though.  I remember talking then…  Well this.”

This drew a frown from England.

“Lad, we talked, then you fell asleep on the couch.  Do you really not remember what we were talking about?”

Alfred frowned as well and turned his thoughts inward.

 

> _“That's what I would like to know America. You were late to the World meeting today and that annoyed everyone. We started without you and thought you would show up after lunch. Then you missed the world meeting altogether. I volunteered to check on you and found you just lying here with your door unlocked. I checked, you were robbed, but you were just not waking up when I called and shook you.”_
> 
> _“Seriously Arthur… Why are you calling me America? And for that matter… Where are we?”_
> 
> _“America… Did you hit your head? Did you fall? You're in your house. And my name is not Arthur.”_
> 
> _“This is not my home. And I am certain I didn't hit my head.”_
> 
> _“Wait… Suits… I'm sorry Arthur. I guess I'm just… I had this weird dream.”_
> 
> _“Suits…? America, what…? You had a weird dream?”_
> 
> _“Yes. And this is a little close to it. Arthur… Father… What is going on here?”_
> 
> _“I'm… Fine…. Maybe you should go to bed lad. You must have worn yourself out. Why else would you be on the floor?”_
> 
> _“That won't help me… Father, seriously, where are we?”_
> 
> _“Poppet, you're in your home.”_
> 
> _“Why don't we go sit down on the couch?”_

So that was the conversation that Arthur- _Ugh I give up!_ \- was talking about.

“We were talking about how I was home?”

Alfred couldn’t help but phrase it like a question, hoping that the other would expand on it.  Arthur’s face relaxed.

“Yes.”

The simple answer made Alfred sigh with relief.  His eyes then looked between Francis and Matthew.

“When did they get here?”

The two men in question shared a look and then looked back at Alfred.

“We got here a little while ago.  England called us because he was worried about you.”

Matthew responded easily, and Alfred’s eyebrows creased in confusion because there was that name again.

“Okay…?”

He decided to say instead of asking more questions that seemed to cause mild to major panic to appear in Arthur's eyes.

“Angleterre… Do we not have the meeting continuation today?”

Francis broke in after the group went silent for a moment. Arthur’s eyes widened.

“With America in this state?”

He asked looking down at Alfred, who creased his eyebrows. Matthew slapped his forehead.

“America has a presentation today… He can't miss again.”

He said, as though just realizing what Francis was hinting at. Arthur looked like he was going object, then he glanced at Alfred with a sigh.

“Oh bollocks…”

He sighed and Alfred had a feeling he was going to be sent rushing.

* * *

Was he ever wrong? After being rushed around the unfamiliar house, and shoved into unfamiliar clothes, he was handed a briefcase and practically shoved out the front door to a… Carriage? What the hell was the thing he was being forced into?! The thing took off at such a fast speed, after the other three climbed in, that Alfred felt his stomach contents (or lack thereof as the case was due to “lack of time”) churn. Then there was yelling about speed limits and comparing English and French drivers, there was also yelling for the two to be mature. Alfred felt a nice sized headache starting.

It was possibly twenty minutes later that the thing stopped in a space, and Alfred had to will his stomach to stop doing odd little flops. He never wanted to get in the metal speed device again. Horse carriages were a Suits send. He didn't have enough time to fully sooth his stomach though, as Matthew grabbed his arm and escorted him out of the death trap.

“Only a minute late. Germany won't yell at us for that right?”

Arthur muttered as he grabbed Alfred’s other arm to make him go faster. Francis was behind them (where the heck did the mirror come from?) and was muttering to himself about an out of place piece of hair as he followed.

* * *

“You're late!”

A loud voice shouted as the door to the room Alfred was being escorted to was opened. He was pretty sure his ears were going to ring because of it… But it was too familiar for it not to have missed his notice. Was there a meeting with Hearts today? Oh hell… Ludwig was going to kick his ass…!

“Sorry… There was a bit of a mishap.”

Arthur tried to sooth, dragging Alfred through the door with Matthew’s help. Alfred watched all eyes turn towards them.

“What on Earth is wrong with America?”

Oh man… It _was_ Ludwig.

“As said… There was a mishap.”

Arthur said again, shoving Alfred into one of the chairs, Matthew moving to steady him.  Oh those eyes were boring into him.

“Why does America look hungover?”

Alfred looked over to see Yao, but the look on his face was not fond exasperation.

“I can’t even begin to explain that to you right now.”

Arthur sighs, as Matthew and him finally let go of Alfred’s arms.  Francis, who had sat down during this, was shaking his head.

“Probably why he didn’t show up yesterday.  He has no sense of priority.”

Alfred looked at the next person to speak.  He internally froze as his eyes met the visage of Ivan.

“Tell me about it.  Does the jerk even have his notes for the presentation?  The presentation itself?”

Alfred looked at the third person to speak, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  Who the hell was this guy?

“Cuba, please…  Not today.”

Matthew sighed, staring hopefully at the other, like he was pleading for the other to listen to him.

“The fat ass probably was too busy with burgers and beer to do anything.”

“Cuba” continued, and Matthew gave a whimpering sigh at the realization the other was not paying attention to him. Alfred immediately reached out to comfort the other, causing him to startle slightly, eyes wide in surprise.

“Don't let him get to you.”

Alfred didn't understand why Matthew looked like he was about to have a panic attack while staring at him.

“Enough of this! America, are you ready to present?”

Ludwig cut off any chance of Alfred asking his brother what was wrong. For a moment, he blinked as all eyes hardened their stares at him. Then it hit him that they had been saying _he_ was America. Clearing his throat in an uncomfortable manner, Alfred placed the briefcase, he still had one hand on, on the table and proceeded to open it. A frown furrowed his brows when he saw the sheet full of doodles and he moved it out of the way to find tabbed documents. Finding the one that said presentation, he pulled it out and then stood, Arthur and Matthew watching him carefully.

When he reached where he guessed he was supposed to be standing, he looked down at the paper and read the information there. What the hell did any of this mean? Economics he understood, politics too, but what was international trade? Shouldn't it be interkingdom trade? And what is this about space missions? Taking a deep breath, Alfred looked over at the device that sat on the wooden podium in front of him. It said on the papers that there was a file that should be in the documents file (whatever the hell that meant) on the computer (he could only guess he was looking at the right thing). How was he supposed to find this file on this thing he had no clue how to work?!

“I ask oh Suits… Give me guidance.”

Alfred found himself muttering to himself as he began to work the device, hearing snickers from the rest of those waiting for him to do whatever it was he needed to. Thankfully, he found his hands being moved, as always when he asked for guidance (which he did rarely). Soon enough the file was found and loaded onto the screen behind him. One of his hands then moved to an odd device with a button on top and took hold of it, while the other rested on his script.

“Today we're going to be discussing international trade and how it is being affected as of right now for America.”

He began clearly, proceeding then to read through the script in front of him, using the button to flip to the next slide as directed on the piece of paper. The room looked like they all had had the biggest shock of their lives, while some were grasping at their hearts like the shock was too much. Ivan’s heart even seemed to have literally dropped out of his chest.

* * *

America’s eyes shot open as he bolted up, his eyes searching around him before landing on a cackling Not-Prussia and Not-Sealand.

“Oh Mein Gott! Did you see that?! King Charisma fits in here better than his counterpart. He fits better in Cards too. This persona is practically a nobody wherever he is!”

Not-Prussia was trying to stay in the chair he had flopped in, his hands bracing on the arms as he leaned over into his laughter. Not-Sealand had his arms wrapped around his stomach, the two objects of before on either side of him as he was lost in his own fit of laughter.

“The poor git! Can't even exist in his own existence!”

The boy’s face was red, and tears of amusement were running from the corners of his eyes.

“That's not true!”

America found himself shouting, drawing the two’s attention to him. The two stared at him for a moment then shared a look. The laughter picked back up. America felt sick.

“I can exist! I do exist. I'm America! I'm the home of the Free and the Brave!”

He shouted over the laughter.

“I'm the nation born on independence. The nation who is full of beautiful and unique people.”

He continued.

“I exist damnit! The eagle of freedom takes flight here. My name is America!”

The other two continued to laugh, until Not-Prussia stopped suddenly and stared America down. Opening his mouth, he said two words that made America’s determination burn:

“Prove it.”


	9. Bargin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't get this up last month. It just didn't want to be written >.<

Prove it?  America was sure he could prove it.  He was sure that he could make it clear that he was needed in this world.  He was going to prove that he is the real persona between him and that “Alfred” that he kept being confused for.  He had to, otherwise these people with Sealand and Prussia’s faces were going to make it seem like it would be better if he disappeared.  He shuttered at that thought.  He had heard about what happened to countries without representations.  He refused to let that happen to his country.

“So how are you going to prove to us that you existance here means something?”

Not-Prussia was staring at America from where he was sitting on the couch.  He was resting his cheek on the knee for the leg he had moved onto the furniture piece, a curious look in place.  America sent him a dark look.

“Why should I tell you that?  You can just watch and see.”

He responded coldly, drawing a laugh from Not-Sealand.

“In other words, he has no plans.  Just winging it is not going to work as well as you think you git.”

America’s dark look shifted to the younger.

“So what if I don't have a fully designed plan? That doesn't mean I'm incompetent.”

He said sharply getting a duo of raised eyebrows.

“Suddenly he has bite.”

Not-Prussia seemed amused by this.

“I noticed.”

Not-Sealand responded with the same amusement.  This irked America to no end.  The two of them, at first, had scared him.  Now he wanted nothing but to punch the two in the face, which he wouldn’t do because he knew these people, he knew were somewhere in the bodies in front of him still.  Prussia was a great friend and Sealand was only a kid.

“If I prove that I’m important here…  You leave.  You let the two you’re in free, and you take this…  This Alfred out of me and return him as well!”

He snapped at the two who were making fake scared jazz hands.

“Hmmmm…  Sounds interesting.  What do we get if you lose?”

Not-Prussia asked, looking at America with a curious head tilt.

“It better be something good, considering what you’re asking for.”

Not-Sealand agreed, a Cheshire grin on his face.  America seemed to turn into a deer, and the two in front of him were the headlights.

“Oh I know Gilbert!  We just take him away from here.  We lock away “America” and return Alfred.  Perfect way to mess with this world, and reduce the sentence if we go back to Card.”

Not-Sealand suddenly said, replacing the silence from America with his excited air.

“Now that is a great idea Peter!  Good job kid.”

Not-Prussia exclaimed, giving the kid a thumbs up.

“You hear that America?”

He then turned his attention to said man, who glared at the two.

“I heard.  I don’t like it.”

America watch the two in front of him roll their eyes in sync.

“We don’t care git.  This is what we want.  Better be getting to proving yourself.”

Not-Sealand snarked.

* * *

America, after finally kicking the two Nots out of his house, having given in and agreed to the terms the two had set, decided to take a shower and get ready for the meeting that had not happened yet.  The dream he had had because of the mirror had been just that.  A dream.  That meant there was still a meeting continuation today.  He also needed to pull out another one of his suits…  And make sure everything he needed was in his briefcase.  He didn’t want England, France, or Canada to need to come by and check on him.  He was not having the former yell at him, or the latter worrying at him, the middle would probably only look at him disappointedly.  The thoughts of those things happening had America groaning to himself.

Moving around his room, America began rounding up everything he needed, then moved to his bathroom.  Ignoring his mirror, he stripped out of the clothes that he wanted so badly to be out of since they felt like he had slept in them, and that made them uncomfortable.  Soon enough he found himself under a perfect temperature stream of water and began to relax. The water seemed to take his worries and wash them down the drain so easily, he wished he could stay under them forever. But that wasn't possible, and the shower would have to end soon in order for him to get ready to go. Washing his hair, America focused on the motion in hopes of further soothing himself, then make a quick wash of the rest of himself. Soon enough he was out of the shower and rubbing himself down with his towel, eyes intently away from his mirror still. Grabbing Texas from where he had put them, he placed the glasses back into place and wrapped his towel around his waist before making his way into his room.

“Twenty minutes ‘til. Cuttin’ it close.”

America said to himself, having checked his clock right as soon as he was in his room. He frowned to himself at that, then moved to quickly get dressed. No time to check his briefcase then. Time to go straight to his car.  Checking himself over in the mirror, America gave himself a nod of approval.  He then began to move quickly down his stairs, grabbing his briefcase (how it was by the stairs, he didn’t know.  It had been by the door last he checked), then headed out the door to his car.


	10. Otherworldly Intermission

The sounds of whispering and shouting echoed in the hall, full of concern, panic, and confusion.

“He was fine and then he wasn’t!  Francis, what is going on?  He had been awake!”

“Arthur, Mon Amour, calm down.  We have to think rationally about this.”

“HOW CAN I BE RATIONAL WHEN ONE OF MY SONS WAS FINE ONE MOMENT AND BACK IN A COMA THE NEXT?!”

“Father, Papa, please….”

The two who had been arguing before turned their attention to a third person in the room.  Said person shifted from foot to foot, eyes trained on the ground.  He was breathing harshly, as though he was panicking, but it was somehow still steady.

“Please…  Can you not argue?  Alfred would hate it.  He would be upset that you are fighting because of him.  He always hated that.”

“Matthieu, oh Mon Petit…”

“Oh goodness Lad…”

The two men moved to the other man and pulled him into a hug.  Matthew gave a sniffle and grabbed onto a sleeve per hand.

“I hate it as much as you two…  I don’t want to see Al like this.  You arguing doesn’t help.  It hurts.”

He said this softly, finally looking up at his parent’s worried faces.

“Oh Poppet…”

“Mon Petit…”

Francis and Arthur shared a look out the corner of their eyes, a silent agreement to worry about their child and not about the argument of before.  Then the sound of a door opening was heard and a loud, tired sigh could be heard as a figure emerged into the hall.

“Aya.…”

The three men who had been in the hall previously turned towards the fourth, their hugging ending in Arthur’s haste to know how Alfred was.

“Yao… Anything new?”

Said man was quick to ask, and this had the man in question turning his own attention to the others in the hall.

“Nothing. He's just like before. It's like he's missing again… His body feels hollow… Like his Qi has left.”

The man closed the still open door to the room he had just left, then leaned tiredly against it.

“I don't know what to do. This is not something I have come across before.”

He admitted, his voice full of defeat.

“I can tell it’s Joker magic still that is the problem, but I don't know how to reverse it.”

Arthur left out a defeated sound, and collapsed into Francis’ waiting arms, Matthew rubbing his father’s arm in comfort.

“There has to be something we can do.  He woke up.  That means he has to be somewhere right?  He wouldn’t be able to wake up otherwise from what you’re implying Yao.”

Francis said adding to the conversation.  Yao opened his mouth, then closed it as it fell into a contemplative frown.

“You’re probably correct.  The problem is figuring out where.”

He responded, all while there was the sound of footsteps entering the hall.

“Queen Arthur, Jack Yao, Diamond King Francis, Ace Matthew…  I hate to interrupt but… The Club Court is here.”

A Two soldier called nervously as he approached the monarchs causing the group to share a surprised round of looks.

“Did they say why?”

Arthur asked, shoving his way out of Francis’ hold to stand up straight and put on his best professional air.

“No Sir.”

The soldier responded, coming to a halt a little ways away from the group.

“They didn’t send notice they were coming.”

Yao informed, a caution in his tone that had Francis and Matthew frowning and Arthur giving an uncomfortable look.

“This had best be dealt with.  Inform them we’ll be there in a moment.”

Arthur told the soldier who bowed.

“Yes Sir.”

He responded before turning and heading back the way he had come from.

“This cannot be a good sign if Ivan decided to visit unannounced.”

Matthew said nervously, and the sentiment seemed to be shared with his parents and Yao who were all looking concerned.

“Well…  We shouldn’t keep them waiting.  Come along, we have a Court to meet.”

Arthur said calmly, moving to head towards where the soldier had come from before,  Francis and Matthew following after him.  Yao looked towards the doors Alfred was behind before sighing, straightening himself out, and also following Arthur.  This was going to be an interesting visit.


	11. All Crashing Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is beyond late... I'm sorry.
> 
> I had a family emergency, then a lot of other things piled up and I just lost motivation to write for the longest time.
> 
> I hope this chapter is good... I'm not too happy with it, but it's what I'm able to say is the best version out of all of the ones I had written or outlined out....

When America was finally was parked in the UN parking lot, he decided to really quickly go through his normal routine just to make things seem normal.  When he opened his briefcase, however, his eyes bugged out.  His doodle page was gone, there were notes in a much neater handwriting than his own on his papers, and there were small circles around some of the questions he had typed up on presentations with little notes in the margins that seemed to be the answers that were given in response.  He hadn’t done any of this.  He had…  His dream was real?  Alfred had actually been real?  Alfred had actually gone to the meeting in his place?  That just didn’t seem possible.  It couldn’t be possible!  Slamming the briefcase closed, America tried to regulate his suddenly harsh breathing, to calm down in the face of what was now a harsh reality.

“America?”

America jumped at the voice that was suddenly right next to his ear.  When had the door to his car been opened?  Did he open it?

“America…  Are you alright?”

America glanced out of his peripheral towards the person who was speaking to him and bit back a gulp when he was met with the sight of Germany.  Why was he not inside the building yet?  That seems way out of character for the other.

“Why aren’t you inside yet?”

America heard himself ask before he fully comprehended that he had asked his thoughts out loud.  Germany made a face that was hard for America to read.

“We decided we were going to start late today.  Do you not remember?”

The man seemed to narrow his eyes now, like he was expecting something.  America did gulp this time.

“Actually…  I don’t.”

America decided to answer truthfully, wanting to see what response he would get in return.  Germany’s twisted into a grimace.

“You did seem to be sick yesterday…  Perhaps that is the reason?”

The last part was clearly Germany talking to himself, but America took it differently.

“I seemed sick?”

“Well…  You were acting rather strange.  And I can say that I am surprised with how professional you had become.  But the whole thing was off.”

America bit his bottom lip, then began to speak clearly the question he thought would lead to how the other was feeling.

“Are you insinuating that I let a look-alike  human take my place?”

Germany actually jolted into a straight backed stance.

“Why would you even ask that?”

He demanded, but America narrowed his eyes at the other.

“So you do.  I was “sick” because I let someone take my place?  You think I would do that knowing that would be the worst thing I could do?  You didn’t think to ask me what was wrong?  You really equate me to being that much of an idiot?!”

Germany’s eyes were wide and it seemed that he was going to say something when America continued.

“No!  Screw you Asshole!  You all think so little of me!  I’m glad I decided to show you all how professional I can be now.  Now I have a good idea of how full of shit you all are!”

That was good America, play yesterday off as you testing the others.  Don’t let it slip it wasn’t you.  Take control of your life again.  As he watched Germany’s face twist through multiple expressions, America grabbed his briefcases handle and then shoved the other country away just enough for him to get out of his car.  He slammed his car’s door shut as soon as he could, and gave the other country a glare before hitting the lock button on his car keys and then stomping towards the building.

* * *

When America reached the lobby, he began moving swiftly to head towards the room that the meeting would be in, his mind running through everything he had just done like a panicked rabbit.  What the hell had he just said and done?!  Germany didn’t deserve that!  This whole thing was a mess.  What was going to happen now?  He could only hope he could play his snapping off as him being tired or something.  Sadly, with how concentrated he was on his thoughts, America found himself with a face full of door, not having realized he had reached where he had been trying to go.  Pulling back, America bit back the words that pain wished for him to say and rubbed his nose.

“America…?”

Oh no.  America moved to look to the side from his peripheral, not wanting to speak to another person just yet in case he snapped again.  The person who had spoken was Canada.

“Hey Bro.”

America responded, tilting his glasses back into place, having finally noticed they had become crooked.

“America…  What happened just now?”

Canada ignored his greeting in order to get to the bottom of what was wrong with the other instead.

“I ran into the door.”

America finally looked over at his brother completely.  There was a concerned look on the others face.

“I noticed.  Why?  Are you still off?  Yesterday you seemed off…  Professional…  But off.  And I passed Germany on my way in.  He looked like he had been punched in the gut.”

America winced at that.

“I may have yelled at him?”

America figured lying at this moment in time would be a bad idea.  Canada’s face became one of shock.

“You did what?  Why?!”

America flinched at how loud and sharp his brother’s tone had become.

“He said something I didn’t like.  I said some things I regret.”

He wasn’t sure he could make himself repeat what he had said.  Canada opened his mouth, closed it, then sighed instead.

“This meeting is going to be hell.”

America flinched at that comment.

“Aren’t they all?”

He asked in hopes of it coming off as a joke to make the other cheer up slightly.  All it did was make Canada’s already slumped shoulders, slump even more.

“Every single one.”

He responded, then he gestured at the door.

“Shall we?”

America gave a nervous laugh, then nodded.

“Yeah.”

* * *

Germany was actually the last one to enter the meeting room.  The world literally seemed to freeze at this fact.  America, however, could probably tell you the reason for it.  He could also explain the look that seemed to be on the county’s face as well.  The look of sheer discomfort that seemed too unfamiliar on the normally stern face.

“I apologize for my being late.  I had something I needed to take care of first.”

America also wanted to flinch at the tightness in the other’s voice.

“It has come to my attention that we may have to talk about meeting standards once more.  Some of our fellow countries seem to be having a hard time feeling like their voices are being heard.”

The country continued, and America found the man’s eyes going to him briefly.  America ducked his head down and ignored the look that England was sending him from his partnering seat.

“I would like to remind everyone that we do have rules for a reason.  The rules are there to make sure that these situations don’t occur.  We are supposed to represent our countries and when we act like fools, we make our countries as a whole also look the same.  All rivalries and other such things, should be kept out of our meetings, as should biases.”

America sunk even further into his seat as the rest of the world at the table started to notice his actions.

“Of course it would be America who complained.”

America could hear someone say from somewhere at the table.  He couldn’t hold back a flinch.

“We have a reason to treat him the way we do though.  Yesterday was a fluke.  He’s a fool all the time otherwise.”

Flinch.

“This is a bunch of bullshit.”

“Romano, shhhhhhhhh!”

“You agree though right?”

Flinch.

“If one acts like an idiot, why should we treat them any different?”

“That’s not a nice thing to do or say…”

“I’m just stating a fact.”

Flinch.

“And furthermore, we should not be whispering like children when we are in these meetings.”

America stood up then, and Germany stopped talking to look at him.  In fact the whole table was now looking at him.

“Fuck all of you.”

America ground out.  The room was dead silent.

“Fuck all of you and your prejudice.”

Some looked ready to comment.

“Fuck all of you, your prejudice, and your own hypocrisy!”

Now there were actual strangled sounds coming from some of the others.

“I’m not the only person who acts like a child at these meetings!  I do it, because all of you do it!  Monkey Fucking See, Monkey Fucking Do!  I’m a “child” compared to all of you!  I’m younger than a lot of you, and what the hell did I grow up seeing?  I saw all of you acting like immature fools!  I “grew up” with an absentee “father”, a perv, and a brother that I couldn’t tell was there half the time because I was the one that seemed to get all the attention.  I had a chance of being raised by the Scandinavians, if my historians are correct, but they decided to not give a shit enough about my lands, thank goodness for that because I don't know how that would have turned out, and left.  I was raised by the most beautiful mother before all this she was gone too soon after.”

America wanted to bite his lip, wanted to cut himself off, but he kept going.

“If you want to blame someone for how I act, blame all of your selves!  Fuck the ego horses you all ride around on!  Try being the superpower of the world and dealing with crises all the damn time!  If you came crying to me if any of you had to deal with what I do on a constant basis, I think I might actually laugh in all your faces!  MAY ALL OF YOU, minus Canada, he’s cool, and Japan, he’s cool too, BURN IN HELL OR YOUR EQUIVALENT!”

He then grabbed his briefcase, turned quickly on his heels, having knocked his chair over when he had stood up, and made a quick retreat to the door.  In the back of his mind he heard the sound of laughter echoing in the familiar voices of Not- Prussia and Not- Sealand.  It was clear, he might have already lost the bet.


	12. Observations and Losses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your support!~ ^_^

As soon as the door behind America closed, the room was silent for a moment longer before everyone began to try and talk at once.  Some were making comments about how America had proved how immature he was.  Some were asking amongst themselves what brought on the sudden outburst.  Some were sitting in silence, shocked, or in contemplation about what was said.  Some were just laughing darkly to themselves.  It wasn’t until Germany slammed his hands loudly onto the table, breaking the table in the process, that everyone went silent.

“Does anyone know what just happened?  And everyone needs to speak one at a time.”

He said sternly, once he was sure he had everyone’s attention at that moment.  No one spoke.  Then Denmark decided to speak up.

“I don’t know what happened, but I want to know what he means about not wanting to be raised by us!”

His hand was waving over himself, Sweden, Norway, Iceland, and Finland.

“Well…  Den…  Think about it.”

Finland chimed in quickly after.  Denmark looked over at him.

“Kalmar Union.”

Denmark shrunk into himself and cleared his throat.

“That was….”

“He would have had to deal with all of us splitting up.  He would have had to deal with wondering who he was going to spend time with.  He would be forced to choose who got to raise him in the end.  Or he would have just fallen apart altogether…  He could have become like the elder countries.”

Finland continued, cutting Denmark off.

“He could have ended up dying young.”

The room went silent again after that last remark.

“Absentee father….”

England spoke up then, his thoughts finally coming from his mouth.

“He really just called me an absentee father…  Blamed me for things….”

France was beside him with a pinched up face.

“He only thought of me as a perv….  I helped him!”

“Helped him?  Yes, you made it easier for him to leave me!  You helped him, but you also never tried to help raise him!  You raised Canada, and sure you let them visit each other, but you also let them struggle to exist in your presence!  You made it to where the two began to have a presence struggle!”

“You didn’t do anything to stop it!”

The two looked about ready to strangle each other.  Canada tried to get between the two.

“France, England, stop!”

‘ENOUGH!”

Germany slammed his fist onto the closest piece of the broken table.  It broke again.

“Are you going to let him get away with that outburst Germany?  You want to run these meetings so much, you should be the one to go after him and tell him off for being a spoiled child.”

Someone said from the further end of the table.  Some people chimed in to agree, including Russia and China.  Germany once more slammed down his fist, and again everyone went silent.

“Have you ever thought that America might be right?  We are all much older than him, yet we all act like children.  I know there are times when even I act immature.  However, it is true that children are impressionable, and we have been nothing but the worst role models for him.”

He glared around the table.  Italy cowered under the table with a white flag being waved.

“China, you are the oldest of all of us.  You complain about our immaturity, yet you don’t move to stop your own.  Russia, you have moments of childishness.  England, though you were trying to be a good role model, your childish fights with other nations were probably what did not help with America’s upbringing.  France, the same goes for you.  All of you were the closest ones to him in the two World Wars.  Where do you think he learned that these tendencies are okay?  And the rest of us only seemed to accent those tendencies with the start of the UN.  While this place is supposed to help us make a better world, it has also been a teaching ground for many countries.  America was one of them.”

He paused to let his words sink in.

“However, I would also say that we have taught him good tendencies as well.  He was able to show us that yesterday.  Maybe we are the ones who need to learn now.  Though we are older, maybe we need to take incentive from the younger countries.  Learn once again what it is like to see the world around us.  We see what are countries are like.  We feel what our countries feel.  But we don’t know what others go through…  Not as commonly as we did before.”

Now the room was just still.  Italy reseated himself at the table, eyes wide open in surprise.

“I agree with Germany.”

Japan’s quiet voice finally spoke up.

“And I think…  Because I know America well…  I think I know where he was coming from when he spoke.”

Canada took that moment to move away from France and England, who had stopped their fighting to look over at Japan, and began to move towards the door.  He had a brother to find.  He had a brother to find and talk to.  He had to know what the other was thinking and feeling.

* * *

America paced around the living area of his house, curses in a variety of languages falling swiftly from his lips as he tried to figure out how to handle the situation he had placed himself in.  His outburst and the reactions of the others before could have easily made him the lose his bet…  It hasn't even been a day and he could have already lost.  A nauseous feeling settled into his stomach at that thought.  He hadn't meant to have that outburst…  The bet just seemed to make it to where his feelings wanted to be presented.  He even felt bad for his parting words, that at the time flowed too easily from him.  This was not how he was supposed to act.  He shouldn't blame everyone else for what happened when he, himself had contributed many a time to the childishness that took place at the table.  The name calling, the backstabbing, he had had his moments as well.  This was him blaming others for things, though some things were spoken in what he believed was truth, he couldn't help but feel that he had made himself out to be the biggest asshole in the room.

“Sure showed us.”

A childish voice said suddenly causing America to whip around to look at his front door. Both Not-Prussia and Not-Sealand were standing there, leaning on opposite sides of the doorway, smug looks plastered to their faces.

“You're totally important and respected.”

Not-Prussia said, moving to mock clap in America’s direction.

“I especially loved it when you called them all hypocrites.”

Not-Sealand said, moving to do the same. America flushed in a mix of embarrassment and anger.

“Not even a full day.  You really must suck.”

Not-Sealand and Not-Prussia then began to move away from the front door, said wooden object swinging closed behind them, and heading to the couch where they took a seat.

“Want to tell us again that you are respected and important?  That people do what you around?”

“That was a lapse in judgement.”

America responded easily, watching as the two rolled their eyes at him.

“A lapse in judgement.  That’s a classy way of saying you failed big time.”

Not-Sealand responded, sending a sarcastic look to his partner.  Not-Prussia snickered.

“Totally not awesome.”

America cringed at that.

“Please don’t say that.  And can I have names?  You’re not my friends, and I can’t keep calling you Not-Sealand and Not-Prussia in my head.”

The two shared a look again, then burst out laughing.

“We’ve been calling each other by our names this whole time.  Not very observant are you, git?”

Not-Sealand giggled.

“Obviously.”

Not-Prussia agreed with a cackle.  America frowned and tried to remember most of their conversations.

“Peter?”

He asked quickly, pulling the name from his memory.  Not-Sealand gave a mock bow.

“Gilbert?”

America again pulled the name from his memory.  Not-Prussia copied Peter’s motion and gave a mock bow.  America frowned as he remembered the other thing about them that he had learned.

“And you’re both Jokers…  From another world?”

“Not another world exactly.  More like a dimension that runs on what you put on playing cards.  Four Kingdoms with an outlier civilization that is made of individuals who have been chosen.  Some people think of us as corrupt for our powers and abilities.”

Gilbert shrugged and Peter nodded.

“Which is why we’re not well liked.  Gil was locked up by his brother.  I was banished by mine.  But we digress!”

The two shared a look between the two of them, then looked back towards America.

“Technically you storming out the way you did, and your reaction is a forfeit in our eyes.  This means you lose.  Since you lost, we’re going to take you back now.  Bye fake persona!”

Peter said waving at America while Gilbert approached him and patted him on the shoulder.

“No hard feelings okay, Al?  It was a Joke.”

America went to say something but felt his throat close up.  His eyes began to see darkness creeping in from the corners.

“Peter, get the mirror ready.  We’re heading home!~”

“Got it Gil!~”

Then nothing.


	13. Alfred's Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!
> 
> Looks like I have a lot that I need to catch up on now.
> 
> Hope this chapter is okay!

There was a darkness that surrounded his mind that he couldn’t seem to pierce.  It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, just hollow.  It had been there for a long time, then it was gone for a short amount of time, and he was looking at his family and friends wearing odd clothing that made them look so different from what he remembered.  This also included those whom he was in neutral standings with as well.  All of them were so odd, out of place, different, that it was unnerving and made him feel uncomfortable to be out of the darkness he had gotten used to.  That feeling was answered and he was back to the darkness after his odd experience, but then the darkness was more than hollow, it was empty.  His mind was full of lost thoughts, feelings, memories, a distinct lack of warmth from the affection given by family.

Now was different.  Now there was someone with him in the darkness.  There was someone who looked like him, though dressed differently and with a more somber, broken look in his eyes that couldn’t be missed if someone looked rather closely at the other.  He wasn’t speaking, just staring at him with a look that seemed to speak of regrets and an internal hurt so deep that he was being torn apart.  They seemed to stare at each other for forever, time having no relevance in the darkness, before the other looked away.  This made him frown in confusion, to try and reach out to the other, who seemed to be fighting back tears.  The other was saying something now, but the void was swallowing the words and making them unable to reach his ears.  The other then looked at him and gave him a broken little smile, saying words that were now easy to gather from the ability he had gained for reading lips.

_ "Please…  Live a more fulfilling life than I seemed to have been able to.  You get to exist again.” _

He was confused about those words.  He tried to reach out to his look alike again, only to watch the man fall to his knees in tears, holding himself in sorrow.  He tried to call out, tried to ask what was wrong, but there was now light flooding the darkness where he was standing.  He tried to see if the light was making it to the other, but instead all he saw was the other fading into the darkness, like dark tendrils were reaching out from within the void and dragging the other into its embrace.  That wasn’t right!  Something about that wasn’t right!  He couldn’t let that happen!  He had to-....

* * *

Alfred’s eyes flew open and then slammed closed, a groan being drawn from within his throat at the way the light hit the optical orbs.  Everything about him felt heavy, unused and disorienting.  He could tell he was in his own bed though from the way the material fit around his person like a glove.  The room was silent, meaning he was alone at the moment, but the lack of sound was welcome in the fact that he found he didn’t mind not having someone there to try and get him fully awakened.  Testing his limbs, he wiggled his fingers and toes, then moved to his hands and feet, then finally his arms and legs.  There was a desperate need in his system to make them feel functional again.  The limbs were heavy, almost burden-like to move, but the more he did so, the more the sensation seemed to go away, leaving a more alive feeling behind.

He threw one of his arms over his eyes as soon as he had better function, trying to cover the delicate organs from the light that seemed insistant in trying to burn them.  He didn’t know why he felt so tired, seeing as he had seemingly just woken up, but he felt drained.  Then there was the feeling like he was forgetting something, or some things that were highly important.  What those things could be, he couldn’t figure out because his mind was muddled with other odd thoughts he was having trouble piecing together.  The random snippet of a conversation someone was having with him, that seemed one-sided as he doesn’t hear his voice responding.  The sound of crying.  The feel of someone squeezing his hand like he was going to be lost to the person if they let go.  Yet none of the memories had a picture to go with them.  No movie like sensation.  Just darkness.

He was about to remove his arm from his eyes when he heard what sounded like someone outside of his bedroom door.  Or perhaps a large groups of someones.

“I wouldn't joke about something like this!  I'm so sure I felt Alfred’s Qi spike!”

Alfred furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, trying to figure out what that meant.  The voice was definitely Yao’s, but the words were strange.  Why would his Qi be spiking when he was fine?  It should be steady unless he was sick.  Before he could contemplate on this thought further, the doors to the room burst open and he suddenly found himself with his father smothering him in a hug.

“Alfred?!”

Alfred tried to place why the others tone was so…  Relieved?  Happy?  Tearful? Oh suits, he was crying!

“Father…  What's with the waterworks?”

He asked, then he frowned at just how gravelly his voice sounded to his ears.  Arthur seemed to make a choking sound and the tears picked up.  This made Alfred panic.

“Father, what’s-...!”

He didn't get to finish the question as it was cut off by him making an “umph” sound as two more bodies seemed to join his father in smothering him where he lay.

“Father, Papa, Mattie, I can't  _ breath _ !”

He all but yelped, the combined weight of the three, plus their tears, weighing heavily upon him.  Immediately the weight disappeared.  Taking a deep breath, Alfred tried to gather himself enough to sit up, and possibly ask for a glass of water.  Instead he found a hand making its way to remove his still present arm from its place over his eyes.

“My King, I must look you over!”

It was Yao.

“You are all acting so strangely….”

Alfred muttered, allowing his arm to be moved, and then the other to help him sit up.

“ _ We’re _ acting strangely?!  Do you not understand how much you scared us young man?!”

Alfred flinched at how his father’s voice seemed to go high pitched with the screech he just made while saying those words.  Yao was now looking at him with a concerned furrowing of his brows.

“That's strange…  The other Qi that was around Alfred’s… Alfred’s has now encircled it.  And it's weak….”

This caught Alfred’s attention and he shifted to try and get himself fully seated up.  Yao didn't try to stop him, in fact he helped him sit up, continuing to examine him.

“I had such strange dreams while I was asleep this time…  Perhaps what you are saying is linked to them?”

He asked his Jack, who paused in his examination to look over at the other royals in the room.

“Perhaps.  Would you speak on them lad?”

Arthur asked, Francis and Mattie nodding in agreement beside him.  Alfred hummed, then looked to the ceiling.  Where should he begin?


	14. Waking Up in Spade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short Chapter is short.

Alfred sat, trying to figure out how to put into words the dreams he had while he was asleep, while his family and Yao watched him with patient eyes.  Though it should be easy, Alfred found himself unable to make himself speak eloquently, especially when an image invaded his mind that made him physically cringe on the outside.

“Father, if I ever see you in green again…  I’ll cry first…  Then I’ll disown you.”

He suddenly blurted out, making Arthur jump and gaining him questioning looks from Matthew, Francis, and Yao.

“What do you mean Lad?”

Arthur asked, trying to figure out what the other meant since he would never wear green.

“You were wearing green in my dream.  Your whole outfit was green.  Green jacket, green pants.  Green.”

Alfred shivered at the memory taunting him.  Arthur actually looked terrified, he too giving a shiver.

“Good lord.”

 “What about the rest of us, Mon Petit?”

Francis asked and Alfred looked at him, his head tilted.

“You look good in blue.”

He said, face completely straight.

“And Mattie looks fine in yellow.  Yao…  Red is a strange color on you, but it works?”

The three in questions faces all changed to looks of confusion or distress.

“This world in your dreams…  It sounds so strange.”

Matthew commented, and he rubbed his arm in a nervous habit.

“I wouldn’t mind wearing Papa’s colors from time to time…  But I love Spade a little too much.  Sorry Papa.”

“It’s fine Matthieu.  I feel that about wearing the color of Spade myself.  I have an obligation to Diamond, however, and thus I must remain in my yellows.”

Francis gave Matthew a smile, which was returned by the other.  Yao looked like he was going to explode.

“Aya…  Me in red?  That sounds like blasphemy.”

He shook his head.

“I would never leave the colors of blue.”

He stressed this, and Alfred gave him a comforting smile.

“I know this.  Yao, you can calm down.”

Yao gave him a grateful smile and then sighed heavily.

“We have much we need to do now that you are awake though.  Your dream…  Perhaps you should write it down and we go over it in full later.  We did something most rude just now.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow, just before the sound of feet could be headed in their direction.

“They didn’t….”

Arthur growled, as though he knew finishing that thought was just going to annoy him when the answer was clear.

“So the young King of Spade is finally awake.”

A man in eye catching green spoke as he appeared in the doorway.

“Rodrich, what are you doing here?”

Francis asked, giving him annoyed look.

“King Ivan and Queen Elizabeta were starting to wonder where you had all run off to in such a hurry.  One moment we’re heading back into the meeting chamber for the start of third day of our visit, the next Yao says something and you all turn and run this way.  I had to ask one of your guards to lead me to where the ruckus was.  Now I know.  It is good to see you awake again King Alfred.  I’ll go inform them that it may take you all a moment to return to what we were going to speak about.”

And with that the man disappeared from the doorway and the sound of feet heading away from the room was heard.

“I’m going to have to speak to that guard who told him.  They should all know better than to let a member of another kingdom without specific permission enter this area of the castle.”

Arthur grumbled, as Matthew moved so that he was standing near the door like a guard.

“I too want to speak to them.  Leave something for me to retrain.”

Yao groused, looking utterly annoyed at the fact that a guard had messed up his duties.  Alfred groaned at the looks on his family members and his Jack’s faces.

“It seems that I don’t get to fully wake up and compose myself before I face Ivan.  This is going to be an interesting meeting.”

He brought his hands up to rub his temples.  His head was starting to hurt, and everything was moving way too fast.  He really needed to have time to process everything…  Looks like that was going to be later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Sadly I'm going on temp hiatus for this fic until I have a few more chapters written. Once I feel caught up, then I'll be back.
> 
> My life has just been so busy that finding time to write is hard. I want to be able to feel confident in a posting schedule before I even try to keep one. That said, I'll feel better when I have more than one chapter ready to go at any given time before I start posting again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope to see you in the next installment.


End file.
